Tea and Trees
by child-dragon
Summary: Some theorizing on Kanrik's past. Also an experiment in second person.


You don't know why you are returning to that lonely hut, deep in the forest that skirts the edge of Neopia Central. There's a miasma about the place, something hidden in the fog that coats the clearing around it. People say that it is haunted or that a sorceress of great power and malevolent evil lives there. You don't know the truth; all you know is that you stumbled upon it and found flowers nestled in the base of the tree you hid behind. They were white, like snowdrops, and they grew with heads bowed. There was mourning in this clearing, and although you fled, the sorrow followed you. You return now to find the cause and finish the story.

It takes a while to find your courage. The mist swirls about your paws, claws its way onto your lupe tail, trying to burrow into your fur. You understand why they say this place is cursed. The flowers are still there, huddled under the sheltering arms of the tree, and these give you some sort of courage. They grow here, on this grass. Why should you fear it if the flowers don't?

The hut itself shows sign of neglect. Moss grows on the wooden shingles and the windows are curtained and grimy. There is a strip of dirt just before the door and a handful of wilted roses decorate either side. They died for want of water, most likely. For a moment you almost turn and leave. There must be a reason whoever lives here is so far in the forest, so far from civilization. Who are you to bother her? But curiosity takes hold and you knock, twice.

A gelert opens the door. She is still young, not a haggard witch as some claimed. You cannot see her hair, bound as it is beneath a pale handkerchief. Her eyes are pale green. They remind you of the ocean and there's something in those depths, just beyond your sight and reach. You try to find words.

She stares at you and you think she is like the roses – wilted. There is weariness in her stance, in her lax shoulders and the threadbare dress. Finally she turns and vanishes into the interior of the house. You stand there, feeling foolish, and wondering what to say.

"Come in then…"

Her voice was once beautiful. It has not been used very much and now it is just… tired. You step inside and carefully shut the door behind you. The room is plunged back into darkness. The gelert is moving around in what you take to be the kitchen. There is a smell of herbs across the room and the faint trace of dried petals. You make your way past a barren living room to where the gelert is apparently making tea. Your voice finally returns and you say something about no need to bother.

"I haven't had guests for a very long time," she replies, "I can at least do this. Go sit at the table, it'll only be a minute."

The tea smells of mint when she joins you at the table, setting two cups and a kettle down on the red-checkered tablecloth. You don't really feel like it but you take a sip of the tea anyways, to be polite. Her eyes never leave you.

"Have you come because of Kanrik?" she asks and there is frankness in her voice.

The name is alien to you. You tell her so and she quickly looks away. You turn your head as well, to give her privacy. Those eyes of hers tore when you said no and guilt worms into your heart. How dare you invade. How dare you hurt this strange and sorrowful lady.

"I'm sorry. I had to ask."

It's alright. I shouldn't intrude.

"Do you wish to know who he is? I can tell. That's why you came?"

I came because of the flowers. But yes, I would like to know who Kanrik is.

She sets her tea down and stares just past your shoulder. You turn slightly and see something hanging on the wall. It's a dagger, sheathed and resting across two nails, slightly uneven on the wall.

"I've kept it there for all these years. It was his, see, and I always thought he'd come back for it. I thought… perhaps he had sent you. I'd like to return it to him."

Her eyes are distant and her ears seem to stand up straighter, as if life has returned to her. She is remembering and you feel like an intruder. The tea is cooling. You drink it.

"He was very important to me. We grew up together and well, I always admired him. Kanrik was the strongest and boldest, there was nothing he couldn't do. There was a tree near our house, the tallest around. I always wanted to climb to the top so that I could touch the clouds and maybe even steal a star from the sky. The other neopets teased me for that but Kanrik listened. And one day he took me on his back and climbed that tree, all the way to the top, with me holding on to his shoulders. He set me on the tallest branch and although I could not catch the clouds, there was down there, on the buds. He took that instead and gave it to me."

Her eyes drift off the dagger to rest on the windowsill. The curtains are parted just slightly and from the faint light you can see a piece of glass, misshapen and casting beams of light off its smooth surface. There is a piece of white in the center of it, a heart of tree down. You see other things as well, small details along the counter. Flowers in a jar. A leaf press. There is life here in this house, some small spark of hope.

"When we were older I could climb the tree on my own. He would stay just behind me, always watching every step I made in case I slipped. Kanrik swore he would never let me fall and he held to that promise. That… I thought…"

She is crying and you awkwardly flounder for something to give her to dry her eyes. Sea-green should not cry like this. Carefully, she pulls the handkerchief off her head instead, and wipes her eyes on this. You can see that her hair is gold, the color of summer wheat, and that it has been cut very short and with a careless hand.

"I'm sorry. He always kept his promises and he promised he'd come back to me. I remember when he made that promise… it was fall and we had climbed the tree one last time. He was going away, he said, for some reason that he couldn't tell me. I cried and he said that it would be fine, that he would return and we would be happy again. And I believed him. Was that foolish of me?" She expects an answer. You have none to give her. "Maybe it was. But I couldn't help but hold to that promise. He'd never let me fall before so why should that happen now? I believed him. He gave me his dagger, as a token of his promise, and then he climbed down. The leaves followed him, I remember that, and I stayed up there until the moon was overhead and the wind rattled the branches. Then I climbed down and I have never touched it since."

The tea is cold. Both of you have given up on it. She idly touches the rim of the cup, and then draws her paw back with a sigh.

"I waited," she continues, "For a very long time. I am still waiting and I sent him word so he can come find me but I don't know if he ever received it. I don't even know if he's still alive. But I'm still waiting. I – I made a promise too."

It hurts to breathe. She is smiling softly, those eyes of hers swimming with memory. The moment is like glass, or sunlight, and you wish you had never come here, for all the beauty and sorrow that suffuses this place of promises.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have burdened you with that."

It's fine. The flowers outside are very beautiful, you know. Have you looked at them?

She shows you to the door, leaning on the frame as you leave. The flowers watch you or perhaps you watch them. Before you slip into the trees you turn. The gelert is still there, framed in the darkness of her small house.

The tree. Where is it?

"Not far."

And she points the way. You thank her for the tea and leave, turning in that direction.

The tree is easy to find. It stands alone in a field, limbs heavy with the first green of spring. You can see the branches Kanrik must have climbed on, sturdy limbs strong enough to bear the weight of both him and the young gelert. You wonder. Your paw wraps around the first of the branches, your hind leg finds a knot of wood. It's easy to climb, branch after branch. They grow thinner as you get further up and the wind sends the entire thing swaying under your weight. You swallow hard and wish you had wings like the pteris and shoyrus do. How hard was it, to climb just a branch behind the gelert, watching her every move, promising over and over that she would never fall? How hard would it be to return, when she is waiting? You don't know.

The tallest branch beckons. You wearily pull yourself up and cling to it, gazing out across the field. There is the forest beyond, just an expanse of unbroken green. Above you are the clouds. Does he watch them and think of her? You wish you could find him and tell him that she still waits, that the promise can yet be fulfilled. There is down on the buds of the tree. You stroke them and they are velvet beneath your paw. The fluff comes off, clinging to your fur.

Why did he leave? What was it he sought? Perhaps he is still seeking, watching the stars and dreaming of the day he can climb this tree once more, with her by his side. Maybe, just maybe, he is somewhere out there in Neopia, waiting as she is waiting. Maybe they will wait forever. The down is torn from your paw by the wind. It spirals away until you can no longer see it. Then you climb down, slowly, and make the same vow Kanrik and the lady gelert made. You will never climb that tree again.


End file.
